


Just This Little Itch 2

by Ceasar_Khan



Series: Just This Little Itch Series [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anthro, Creampie, Exhibitionism, F/M, Public Sex, Vaginal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28718778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceasar_Khan/pseuds/Ceasar_Khan
Summary: And then valkynn fuck Pierre, look at him go. LETS GOIT aboUt 3k words, happy new year
Relationships: m/f - Relationship
Series: Just This Little Itch Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105316





	Just This Little Itch 2

Gone was Valkynn's trepidity when having first caught Pierre. She shut the office door. 

Sam rose off of Pierre in a slow, fluid motion, his member promptly slipping out. Her hindpaws remained planted on either side of his hips. He already didn't like this.

He scrambled, pushing against the floor and wiggling out from under Sam, getting up on his own two paws swiftly after. The glass entrance doors of Feralin Office West swung open as Pierre passed through them, just finishing stuffing his manhood back into his pants. No one had said anything on his way out.

His white fur lit up in the afternoon sun.

He glanced at his car, but shook his head. Turning onto the sidewalk that lined the plaza strip, including his office, he got moving. 

The panel glass squeaked as the entrance opened behind Pierre. 

He looked over his shoulder, still walking, and saw Valkynn standing there. She turned right, then left, and spotting Pierre, began to chase after him. His strides became longer and quicker.

He really didn't feel like having people think he was out of it if he just bolted away, suit pants and all. The relief he'd gotten from leaving the office was erased as soon as he realized Valkynn wanted to give him a piece of her mind. Or whatever it was that she wanted. It couldn't be good either way.

The strip of small businesses ended where the parking lot did, and at that point began a decently sized park, lavishly green with the breath of spring.

Pierre's leather soles went from pebbly concrete to crunchy grass.

There were a few joggers running the concrete paths in the mostly flat area, which itself hosted a few trees spaced far and wide apart. Pierre had always found the lonely oaks comforting; comfort being a much welcome commodity.

The nearest tree in particular provided shade over a wrought-iron bench. He'd spent more than one afternoon winding down after work, reclined under the oak's swaying branches. 

He slowed down. His gait became relaxed, and his shoulders untensed.

What was he doing? Valkynn wasn't anyone to run away from.

The ferret crossed the park grass, grasping the bench's thin armrest before he sat down. 

He watched as Valkynn closed the last bit of distance between them. She stopped before him, looking him over with both suspicion and concern. Shaking her head, she took a seat next to him. He always wondered if birds found it uncomfortable to tuck their wings against the back the seat like that.

She crossed her avian legs, scaly yellow beginning just past her knees and covering everything below. Each hind claw held four talons, one behind her ankle, and three in front. For a bird in modern times, hers were perilously sharp.

She laced her hands together, resting them in her lap. Just like her legs, the yellow scales began at her elbow and continued down. Pierre always found avian hands to be curious. Three top talons and one on the side, like a thumb.

"What the hell?" She said, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head.

Pierre felt a pang of dread. She was probably the only person in that office he trusted. He appreciated her soft voice, her willingness to be quiet with him. He felt that she understood his silence, catered to it even. Now it was different. She never used this tone.

"You're literally insane. Connor, Sam, Aliyah, they say and do weird shit. Those two fight, and it's childish. And Connor? Who else would pay that much out of their own pocket for a stupid work activity? I expect it from them. But you?" She addressed him.

The worst and most residual consequence: disappointment. And he actually cared what she thought about him. She was grounded, reasonable.

"I wouldn't even be talking to you right now. But I know this isn't you," she said. 

Even in the open air of the park, he felt trapped and cornered. There was no weaseling his way out. It was him. The decision to fuck his coworkers right in the office was his responsibility; whether or not he'd been encouraged didn't matter.

"There has to be some reason. Because otherwise... you're just fucking crazy," she continued.

"It's…" he began.

He didn't even know where to start. But thankfully, she gave him time to think and form some kind of coherent response.

"I was born with natural instincts." he finally said. "I'm sorry, Valk. It's not an excuse but… I mean, I've never done anything like this."

She laid a taloned hand on his knee.

"No, it's not an excuse. The other two must've somehow sniffed it out," she said.

He almost flinched at her touch.

"I guess the, 'quiet as they are vicious' stereotype is true," she continued.

He turned his head.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Of course the quiet little ferret is a savage animal when it counts," she explained. 

So much for trying to convince people I'm not a freak, he thought.

She sighed. "Have you thought of where you'll go for your next job?" 

That brought his restless train of thought to a halt.

"Am I not going to prison?" he questioned.

"No. There's really no point, considering how it happened," she replied. "Unless you want to say something to the police. No one outside the office saw anything. And I can't see Sam or Aliyah trying to press charges, can you?"

He shook his head, cast his eyes to the ground, and crossed his arms. It was a comfort thing. Like hugging himself.

"Why isn't Connor telling me this? Is he scared of me?" he asked. 

She scoffed, and clasped her scaly hands back together.

"Frankly? Yeah, he is." she answered.

He wasn't completely surprised. Connor's anxiety had a short fuse. Even still, Pierre was Connor's employee, and they were on good terms. It wasn't like Pierre had done anything as alarming as hurting someone.

"How long were you going to hide it? Until you retired?" she asked.

He nodded. After getting turned down so many times at other jobs, he wondered what would happen if he left out just that one detail in his next interview. It wasn't his fault he was born with it. Plus, he'd only ever had one major incident because of his instincts, and it had been years ago.

"You know it wears off on other people, right? It takes a long time, years even. But they pick up on your animal tendencies, little things you never think about. Then one day, the most civilized person attacks someone, steals, forces themself," she gestured to him. "In your case, they came onto you," she finished.

"I didn't know… I thought all I had to do was control myself," he admitted. It was bad to think about. He was still left with a question. "Wait, does that mean you-"

"Pierre. You know the feeling. The choice you face every moment you're around anyone else. Isn't it tempting to just… do it?" she asked.

Of course he knew. From the second he'd walked in that morning to even this very point in time, he'd felt it, like water dripping from a leaf. The instinct isn't overwhelming, but it's sharp and it's tantalizing.

"So you knew?" Pierre questioned. If she was as far gone as Sam or Aliyah, it was already over for him.

He had years of practice of keeping himself in check. They didn't.

She smiled with that odd, slight upturn of the corner of her beak, common to all avians.

"I didn't come out here just to scold you," she replied, shifting her toward him.

"Just to pretend to?" he asked, scooting away, but soon meeting the armrest.

"Well, I actually was a little mad at you. But I'll be in a better mood after this," she stated.

"After wha-"

Pierre was quieted as Valkynn swiveled where she sat, tossing a leg over his lap, settling her weight into it, straddling him.

He raised his hands in an, 'I surrender'-like pose, eyes wide, ears folded, mouth agape.

"I…" he began, but immediately realized it was useless.

She grabbed the metal backrest on either side of his head and ground her crotch against the middle seam of his slacks.

"Are you even wearing anything under there?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yes," she said.

"Why are you lying?" he asked, not in an accusatory tone, but in a worried one.

Her blue dress draped slightly over his pants, but that was just about all they covered. Even through the fabric, he could feel the contours of her nether regions.

"Right in the middle of the park? Someone is going to see us," he objected.

She shrugged ineffectually.

Her hunger was contagious. And it was only natural after all. He had to train his mind just so he wouldn't even think about it. But now it was so unashamedly in his face that he had no choice but to give in. 

He knew there would be consequences for this. He could only imagine what an onlooker might think. 

With an inward sigh, mentally admonishing himself, he laid his hands on her hips, and thrust up counter to her movements.

"Oh! What happened to, 'someone is going to see us?'" she queried, pressing into him once more.

He didn't respond. He didn't have to. Animals didn't need words.

He thrust again, pushing down on her hips. In return, she drew circles against his growing bulge, his trousers feeling more restricting by the second. The sensation of a woman in his lap had him right on course to full mast.

He straightened in his seat, his body flush against hers as he reached one arm around her. He lifted her just high enough to undo his pants with his free hand, promptly tugging them and his underwear down his legs so that his cock popped free of its confines.

The moment it came free, she shot her taloned hand down and grasped it. Pierre sucked in a sharp breath. For a second he feared those pointy black daggers on the ends of her digits, but her surprisingly soft and gentle grip drove all worries away. They both watched as she stroked up and down on his red length, the afternoon air feeling cool on his sensitive skin.

He lowered her and sat back, letting her work him. His manhood was so close to her lips; not that he could see them. Her dress was inconveniently concealing. Still, all he had to do was tilt his cock at the right angle, push his hips a bit, and he'd get his first taste of avian pussy.

Their breathing had started calm and collected, but ever since Valkynn mounted Pierre, they'd been panting. 

Knowing that she was experiencing the same rush of urges and impulses made his instinctual lust all the more potent. She too was giving in, letting her civilized veil fall away. The freedom was nostalgic.

She stopped. Her hand left him and gripped the backrest once more. Before Pierre could object she rose so that her crotch hovered over his, her dress catching on, and eventually slipping over, his member.

He looked to her and felt a tingling rise in his stomach. His face became warm with the realization of just how hungry she was. He never knew anyone else could match the fathoms of his desire. It was maddening, the look in her eyes. Her beak expectantly agape. She didn't have to say anything more.

He reached under the hem of her dress, grasping himself. She came back down. Slow. Barely patient. Holding back.

The downy feathers of her nethers graced the head of his cock, making them both shudder. Blindly, he sought out her entrance with only the feeling in his manhood to guide him. And there it was.

After bumping into her left thigh, then her right, his journey in between them ended at a soggy, telling destination. She really wasn't wearing anything under her dress.

Already wet? he thought. Good.

As she continued her descent, he was guided inevitably to the center of her matted feathers, to the source of the moisture. He was at once pressed against her lips, and a few seconds later, pressed inside them. He was able to discern them opening up around him, still snug-tight on his tapered end. Then they swallowed his entire tip.

"Mmmm," Valkynn hummed.

Pierre bared his teeth without thought. He couldn't wait until she just-

She sank. Dropped, more like. Her lips spasmed momentarily around the base of his cock, kissing his sheath. They both groaned at the sensation that only one of them had been expecting. Not that Pierre minded the sudden hilting. 

Valkynn leaned forward, tilting her head down so that it rested against his. He was surprised at first by the unique contact, going cross-eyed looking at her. It wasn't bad. In fact, he found it a bit comforting. Still, it did nothing to temper his fiery mood. He was going to breed her properly.

His hands ventured beyond her hips, squeezing her rump possessively. He thrust up into her. And just as he did, he heard muffled talking, the kind of talking quieted by distance. As he peered over to his right, he found a broad-shouldered man standing on the concrete path, perhaps sixty meters away.

A blonde, almost orange cat, in his thirties or forties from the looks of his deep blue jeans and nicely kept sweater. Pierre thought he heard, "What the hell?" or some other shocked expletive. Despite not quite being able to make out the feline's features, he could tell the cat was staring. Pierre stared back. And he thrust again. 

Did the man find it odd that two wild animals were fucking in a park? The question amused Pierre in his lust-addled state. 

If the man wasn't exactly sure about what he was seeing before, he had to have been sure now, seeing Pierre take Valkynn bodily. Pierre watched as the feline raised a hand to his mouth, swiftly turning and walking the opposite direction.

Hoping the man wouldn't call the police, or if he did, that he would wait until Pierre had finished seeding the delicious female in his lap, Pierre returned his attention to Valkynn. He wondered for a moment if he should tell her what he just saw. His instincts told him the only thing that mattered was the wet pussy his cock was currently buried in. Pierre listened to his instincts.

Using his grip on her plush, twin cheeks he dove right into a cycle of rocking humps. Each roll of his hips was a reintroduction of his cock into her warm depths. He didn't know if it was her being a bird, but her inner core burned hotter than Sam's or Aliyah's, and he was all too delighted for it. He snarled. Her breathing immediately quickened.

She was so slippery-smooth, and without him being able to visually confirm the sensations, they became all the more vivid and tangible. The details were left to the boundaries of his imagination. He could feel how wet he was, painting her crotch and his alike in her fluid. The smaller feathers felt incredible on his fur. It only made him want to hammer into her.

Whenever he bottomed out, the tip of his cock was choked by the inward curvature of her vaginal canal. It was confoundingly structured: at the entrance, it was tight, narrow. As it progressed, it opened up some, but in no way could it have been mistaken for loose. The tension simply lessened, the muscles given more room to mold to his length. When her innards contracted around him just right, it caused spine-tingling friction as he pulled and pushed. At the latter end of her tunnel, it tightened back up, a cozy little slot for his tip to fill over and over.

Having her riding him in this fashion gave was a refreshing experience. The angle of cock his driving deep inside, being suckled on all sides by her dripping loins. Her entire body was put behind it as well, only adding to his blissful escape. He listened to her moans, how they rollercoastered in volume and pitch.

It was easy to focus on. Just letting his mind be driven into the depths of his instincts, the most primal and animalistic part of himself. The future consequences were nothing. The present was everything.

He was going to to cum inside her, and what a beautiful specimen she was to cum in. He never had any preference for a particular species, but this bird made him wonder if all avians were this good. 

Thoughts of conception wafted about, a fog that grew thicker as he got closer to unloading his nuts. He imagined over and over that climactic high, filling her virile womb with his children. Their incompatibility as mates did not register to his lust-struck conscious.

She kept bouncing in his lap, her vigor and passion contagious. He growled, almost feral in his demeanor, fucking her with wild abandon. He rocked her body with sharp, impactful thrusts, causing her to occasionally squawk, a sound he'd never heard her make. Little by little her wings began to unfurl, with her long, white feathers practically glowing in the sun.

It was time. On the final stretch, Pierre ravaged her; merciless as he filled her tight pussy, intent on hitting every spot that made her shake and shudder. He could see it in her glazed eyes, her mind awash in pleasure under his harsh treatment, the experience of being truly bred like animals were meant to do. He came upon his last, jerky motions, and by their end, he lanced his cock as deep inside of her warm depths as he was able to. 

Her beak was open, a gasp perpetuated by Pierre suddenly lunging, taking her neck between his jaws. His teeth did not break her skin, but the possibility of the bite alone was electrifying. most birds didn't exactly have a mating bite in the primal ages, but it proved effective on her nonetheless.

His cock jumped in powerful, shooting throbs, launching strings his cum into the furthest reaches of her canal. He held her down against him as he unloaded his nuts within her, soon feeling a combination of their fluids beginning to spill over their crotches. The was no hotter bliss, no flame in hell as high and as bright as the pleasure that blinded him in that moment.

When he came back down, however long it had taken him, he realized he'd let her go: her head resting on his shoulder, limp along with the rest of her body. He patted her rump.

"That was..." Valkynn began, panting. "Nice."

Pierre nodded in agreement.

What the fuck happens now? Pierre wondered.

"Also, you have to um.. fuck. You have to go talk to Connor for an exit survey and interview.

Pierre sat back, his eyes lidded. "Sure," he said.


End file.
